Red Riding Hood
by Tsuru-san
Summary: Kind of AU about a year postSotL Will’s hunting Hannibal…or is Hannibal hunting him? mild slash


**AN**: This is one of the darker things I've written in awhile, and Will's not exactly all there… I rather like it though. Please also keep in mind, this story contains sprinklings of SLASH so if ya don't like it, don't bloody read it. Oh, and it should be obvious that I don't own these characters. ;D

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London's frosty, winter wind whistled down the empty streets. An area of two blocks had been sealed off surrounding an old library, and as the weather complained, two groups of both British and American law enforcement cautiously infiltrated the compound. Will Graham stood farther back, coordinating the whole operation from around the center of the street.

Will pulled his jacket closer while the chill whooshed by for the umpteenth time as if in warning. The leather jacket kept him warm though. It was a dark, rich red bordering between wine and blood; not exactly Will's style, but he liked it.

Hell, _none_ of this was his style, but Will didn't care. Molly had left him after Dolarhyde was killed, and for a while, it seemed as if the ex-profiler had truly hit rock bottom; that he'd finally lost to the demons plaguing him. Licking his wounds, Will had dragged himself back to Florida…alone. Trying to drown out his nightmares with alcohol, Will Graham was the end result of a broken life.

Until _he_ escaped.

Taking a break from the boat he'd been fixing, Will had gone inside, flipped on the television, and immediately received the headlines and news stories flashing in his face like some practical joke gone obscenely wrong. Eventually the numbness wore off, and once he knew that all the pain—not just physical but emotional too—he'd gone through to get Lecter in custody was entirely for nothing, Will _really_ snapped.

Almost right after Hannibal Lecter's escape, he'd shocked the FBI—not to mention himself—when he showed up at Jack Crawford's door _demanding_ to be put on the Lecter case. At first, Jack had agreed wholeheartedly, but soon enough he started to realize that Will might not exactly be in an entirely sane mindset… The younger became obsessed with catching Hannibal, and Crawford and Dr. Bloom could do nothing but watch and worry about him.

But somehow it all made perfect sense to Will. Subconsciously, perhaps desperately, he felt that Lecter's capture would equal _his_ release, freedom from his inner-demons, and now a tip from a British policeman had led Will trekking to London, England. Vigilantly, Graham's searching eyes darted around the quiet block. Except for under the streetlights, the night had doused everything in murky shadow. Not even stars were able to lend their glow since a coming storm had blanketed the sky.

A crack of lightning rang out a ways off as Big Ben sounded that it was eleven o'clock sharp. It would be for the best if everything went down before the rain started. Will signaled to the two other agents that had been left to stand guard with him in front of the building, indicating that they should circle around the back. The two men exchanged hesitant looks before going off in the direction Will had instructed them to.

Alone at last, Graham about-faced and walked out of the middle of the street, the soles of his shoes tapping upon the cobblestones. He stopped on the sidewalk at the mouth of an alley. Turning in another brisk 180, he faced the building Lecter was "supposedly" holed-up in wondering how long it would take before the British police and SWAT team exited empty handed.

Hearing light footsteps behind him, Will also speculated on whether or not he'd live long enough to see their dejected faces. Then he felt hands on him, and all his attention immediately turned to the present as one hand gripped the junction where his neck met his collarbone, and the other rested far more gently on his hip.

"Hello, Red Riding Hood," the owner of the hands sneered, managing to mock Graham's coat and greet him at the same time.

The profiler's hand drifted to the gun holstered at his side. "Hannibal," he said, voice flat. Will had been expecting the Good Doctor to single him out the first chance he got. He wasn't surprised when Lecter didn't answer him either; Hannibal just tightened his grasp and leaned closer, pressing up against the younger man, running the tip of his tongue along the shell of Will's ear, and briefly nipping him in a perverse display of intimacy.

Will released the safety on his .45 shotgun. "What sharp teeth you have."

Hannibal chuckled deeply, and Will felt the brush of a blade being held precariously against his throat as Lecter purred, "All the better to eat you with, my dear."

END


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